I have a biopsy tomorrow afternoon. That should take me from low to very low! At the moment I struggle to get around the house and I missed last night’s football. Which turns out to be a positive.
I’m in pain. My mobility is limited hugely. My appetite is gone. My ability to judge the good work of the constipation sachets is limited. A fast move to the gents is completely impossible. Constipation Roulette is a threat!
True to say I’m not enjoying this bit. No treatments. Pain. Overwhelming discomfort. This is not something I considered when I decided in December 2016 my future was travel, pain for a few days and then a quick death.
The biopsy results are still a week or two off. They will decide if drug trials are an option. Or if the new immunotherapy drug is a treatment. Or if returning to chemotherapy is actually a good thing.
In the meantime, I’m not very well. A couple of lunch dates on hold. An opportunity to see the Scottish Borders welcome, but beyond me. For now.
I do think I need a treatment and I need it fast though. This isn’t fun.